Sesame Street
by AlekzanderCringe
Summary: Detective Whodat and Bert have been partners for about three years now. With the rise of several gruesome crimes on Sesame Street, and the disappearance of a famous prostitute by the show name of Abby Cadabby, things are looking bleak for the dynamic duo.


My Sesame Sweet

Proudly Written by Alekzander

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Ilana for encouraging me to write this wonderful piece of art. Without her, I would have never embraced my love for Sesame Street as deeply as I have in this book. She patiently waited for this book's completion, and supported me each and every step of the way! Thanks again, Ilana. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Readers' Notes

"This book has officially changed my life. I'm not sure if it's for the better or the worse yet, but it has." - John Falcon, Editor of _None of Your Business_ Magazine.

" **This book is a complete monstrosity. It should be wiped from the face of the earth immediately before some poor sap lowers his IQ those few extra points and ends his fragile existence. Honestly, the nerve!" - The Queen of England**

 **"I found this book in the store one day and thought it was going to be a nice little romance novel that i could read in between the kids' soccer practice and school. I would never read this book again. Couldn't get past the first chapter." - Delilah Jones, Single mother from Colorado**

"...this book is pretty much the greatest thing that has ever happened to mankind. they just don't realize it yet." - anonymous

Chapter One:

Heart of Aluminum

"...What the hell do you want, Bert?" I grasped my phone from my nightstand, ceasing its irritating, pulsating vibrations against my wooden nightstand, pulling it close to my ear, waiting for the voice on the other end to explain the reason I was so suddenly torn from my feeble dreamland, "...Do you know what time it is?"

There was shuffling on the other end as a low, grumble of a voice slipped through the speaker and caressed my eardrum, "...That sounds like a question for The Count, sweetheart. Listen, I need you to meet me. By Big Bird's house. I think we might have the guy we've been looking for."

"You sure it's him? Because I swear to god if I get there and pull the kind of shit you did last time, I will fucking end your career in a grand total of two seconds, you hear me?" there was a beep as one of my fingers had accidentally slipped and pushed a button, the result of gripping the phone too tightly. I loosened my hold, rubbing my temple with my free hand as I pulled the phone away and pressed the end button.

The darkness of the room was beginning to weigh itself in my vision as the phone screen went dark. I lay it on the covers beside me, taking a moment or two more to shut my eyes and enjoy the silence. I hadn't noticed until now… the quiet drizzle of rain just outside my window. Great. I grunted, pushing myself onto my elbows before getting to my feet and making my way over to the blinds. Parting a couple, I peered through at the gloomy place I called home.

Sesame Street.

Damn place was a madhouse. If you'd ever wanted to live in the slums, this was the place to be. Trash littered the streets, the residents were a couple of fruit loops… hell, you couldn't take a step outside without seeing something that would make you question the last couple of life choices you've made. And that's where I was now… thinking back on my choice to move here, two years ago from the town over. Transferred detective from one hellhole to the next. Guess it wasn't too different after all.

I threw on a crumpled shirt from the edge of my bed, and slipped on some old blue jeans, running a hand through my hair and making my way to the mirror, flipping on the light as I went. Resting my palms on either side of the sink, I leaned in. Huh… guess I couldn't complain. I'd had worse days. The man staring back looked exhausted, bags under his eyes… six o'clock shadow on his jaw, locks of hair drifting into his eyes. I turned my back, gathering my gun and an extra round from my dresser, tucking them between the hem of my pants and briefs. Wallet in the back, keys in the front left… and finally, phone in the right. Without another word, I made my way to the front door and exited into the main hall of my apartment complex.

I took a look to the right, glad to see no one was out at this ungodly hour. Wouldn't be the first time I ran into trouble right off the bat. But this time? I got lucky. That's all it was. Nothing less, nothing more.

It was a few layers of stairs down to the main level, my car parked right out front… hedge hiding the front bumper. Though, when I came around the corner, I could see the faint dent on the left hand side of my jet black, 1958 Ford Thunderbird. Memories of that drunk bitch Prairie Dawn crossed my mind and I couldn't help shuddering. An old ex-girlfriend with a drinking addiction… I'd hung her to dry one night after one of her little breakdowns. She'd left me quicker than light, taking half of my shirts with her and leaving this nice reminder behind. But I saw it as more of a trophy than anything. One less disaster to take care of.

Speaking of disasters, I plopped down into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, leaning back against the seat as the familiar roar of the engine caught my attention. It wasn't long before I'd pulled out of that parking lot and onto the road, heading towards the second biggest disaster in my life. My partner, Bert.


End file.
